Making Sense
by Original Max A
Summary: "What happens in Russia, stays in Russia... even if it makes no sense whatsoever." Felicity tries to make sense of everything that happened in Russia and Oliver tries to make sense of what it really means to care about someone else.
1. Chapter 1

Another analysis of the infamous conversation in 2x06. I'm doing this in two parts. First from Felicity's perspective and the other from Oliver's perspective.

* * *

Isabel Rochev made perfect sense. Isabel was cold, calculating and everything that she did had an agenda. Maybe it was a woman thing. Maybe it was a high achiever thing. Felicity understood her and more specifically, she understood what Isabel could gain by sleeping with Oliver. Felicity knew that Isabel and a sizable amount of Queen Consolidated staff thought that she was sleeping with Oliver, even some of her old co-workers in I.T.

Isabel's not-so-subtle sizing up of Felicity had not gone unnoticed and, being that Isabel was a woman who was used to getting her way, it had to drive her crazy to see that Felicity seemed to get Oliver's attention when no one else could. To Isabel, this was a game, making Oliver almost inconsequential. Oliver was the prize. After everything that Felicity and Oliver had gone through, it was almost funny that Isabel thought she could destroy Oliver and Felicity's relationship by sleeping with him. If Isabel's goal was to still control Queen Consolidated and if she thought she could manipulate the CEO through sex, like she thought Felicity did, Felicity couldn't blame Isabel for trying. It made sense, in a cold, ruthless business bitch of the year kind of way, but it made sense.

Oliver, on the other hand... Oliver…It was like her mind was running on an internal feedback loop. Whenever her mind wasn't occupied with her work, the short film of Isabel Rochev sliding out of Oliver's hotel room like a snake kept playing back in her head. No matter how many times it played in her mind, _his_ actions still didn't make sense. Oliver knew that Isabel Rochev was on the old "list" and while not everyone on the list deserved an arrow in the chest, that fact that she was on the list made her at minimum untrustworthy and at worst Lady Macbeth. She had been hell-bent on taking over Queen Consolidated, undermined Oliver at nearly every turn and was just a bitch to Felicity. She was the enemy and, in the office, just like in the Arrow Cave, she and Oliver were a team. So why, on G-d's green earth, would Oliver, knowing the danger she posed to his family, his livelihood and to his business, take her to bed? It didn't make sense.

Felicity wrestled with this question for days after they returned from Russia until, when Oliver asked her to deliver a set of papers to Isabel's office, she finally broke down and asked her burning question.

"Why her?" Felicity asked, stopping Oliver mid-stride. He turned to her with a slightly exaggerated turn, like he had been expecting and hoping to avoid this question. Still, he walked back to her desk and allowed her to finish, "I mean besides the obvious leggy model reason."

"It just kinda happened," Oliver replied almost automatically, "It didn't mean anything."

Felicity hung her head. _That makes it worse, Oliver_, reprimanded Felicity in her head. Sometimes, it was like Oliver forgot whom he was talking to. She was not Laurel. She wasn't Sara. She wasn't any of his girlfriends or flings that could be satisfied with a smile and superficial answers. She was Felicity, his friend, his colleague and most importantly see-through-er his bullshit. Oliver's words fell from him lips so automatically that Felicity couldn't help, but wonder how many times Laurel heard the same excuses. It was sad. She thought that by now, after everything they had gone through, that Oliver would know better than to lump her in with all of the other non-familial women in his life. She was special. Wasn't she?

"Hey," Oliver said suddenly in a softer tone.

It was the tone that caught her attention. Oliver had always been the master of multiple faces. He was the son, the playboy, the warrior, the brother, the lone wolf trying to be a leader, but every since Tommy died, he's tried something else. He's tried to be better friend to both her and Diggle. For all of the "sleeping with Isabel" crap, she was proud of him for taking the chance and helping out John when he needed it. She thought she heard "Oliver, the true friend" in that tone, and that's what made her look up.

His face was different. His expression was more open and raw. Felicity didn't know what she was about to hear, but she knew it would be something more than what "Playboy Oliver" had just offered her.

"Because of the life I lead…" he started, taking time with his words, "I just think that it's better to not…be with someone I could really care about."

Somehow, that was an arrow to the heart that she wasn't quite expecting. In that one, slowly crafted, carefully worded sentence, Oliver produced so many emotions that she literally didn't know how to process it all. She had to get away from him before she did something embarrassing. It seemed that her heart had installed a temporary verbal filter because somehow she managed to stay quiet as she gathered the things that need to deliver to Isabel's office. Stuffing her own feelings in a box so that she could organize, categorize and possibly cry them out later, she replayed the sentence in her head, analyzing it "Friend Felicity" as opposed to "Felicity, girl with a crush", as she walked by Oliver. As a friend, she heard something different in his sentence. She heard Oliver's loneliness, she heard his fear and she heard that he still believes that he deserves to be punished. With everything that has happened, he's still trying to achieve redemption in his own eyes.

Felicity turned her heel and wasn't surprised to see Oliver had turned to face her. "Friend Felicity" has something to say and even though Oliver didn't give her the answer she wanted, he had tried. He had tried to lay something bare on the table and "Friend Felicity" felt the need to honor that.

"Well, I think…I think you deserve better than her," Felicity said, giving voice to the dignity of their friendship instead of her personal pain. She turned and walked away, trying to leave Oliver behind in more ways than one.

* * *

Next up: The same scene, but from Oliver's perspective. Remember, Oliver is really good at pretending that he is an idiot, and sometimes he actually is.


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver peeked up from the papers that he was signing to the blonde who was working diligently outside of his door. If he were honest with himself, he loved watching Felicity work. Not only was she amazingly capable at what she did, there was something incredibly sexy about the way she would calmly and confidently bend the information of the world wide web to her will. Felicity worked with code and information with a focus that rivaled his own when he was training. She was brilliant, brave, beautiful and… disappointed in him since she saw Isabel Rochev slink out of his hotel room.

Oliver was so used to Felicity's babbling that her cordial and professional behavior toward him over the past few days was painfully noticeable. She was as efficient as ever and, for Felicity, disturbingly silent.

Oliver turned back to the documents in his hand and studied them. _Isabel_, he thought as he continued reading. Oliver knew sleeping with her was a mistake from the moment that he kissed her, but he also knew that _not_ sleeping with her would be just as bad. Isabel Rochev was a cold, calculating woman and what was worse, she was jealous of Felicity. Having been the most notorious playboy of Starling City, Oliver could read women pretty well and he knew a jealous woman was a dangerous enemy. Not sleeping with Isabel would have likely caused her to look into his life more deeply and further influence rumors that the relationship between he and Felicity was less than professional.

Before the island, Oliver would have slept with Isabel Rochev because she was beautiful, willing and the jealousy thing would be a bit of a turn on. Now, everything in his life was about strategy. He was always hiding something, manipulating someone or gaining control of a situation. Taking Ms. Rochev to his bed was a distraction, stress relief, a way to get her off of his scent and, as twisted as it was, a way to protect Felicity. Isabel Rochev was a means to an end that Felicity was not supposed to see. But she had, and as much as he hated it, he was willing to take her "silent treatment" as long as he didn't have to answer any questions about his motives. There is no proper to say "I slept with the woman we both hate so she would think I was tramp and not you."

So Oliver made his peace with Felicity's silent treatment and walked to her desk with the papers that he had just signed. He hoped that doing some actual CEO work would stop Isabel from coming to his office for the time being. He knew that Felicity didn't like playing "Go-for" between he and Isabel, Isabel had her own version of Felicity just outside her office so the contact between the two ladies would be minimal.

Oliver placed the papers on Felicity's desk as she looked up at him.

"I need you to deliver this to Isabel's office," he said curtly and spun on his heel, hoping to make a quick exit.

"Why her?" Felicity asked, stopping Oliver mid-stride. _Of course_, Oliver thought, _She finally speaks and it's the one question I don't want to answer._

Oliver dutifully turned to face her and walked back to her desk, trying to figure out how he was going to respond, being that telling her the truth was out of the question. He knew that explaining his logic out loud would only make things worse and more awkward for all parties involved.

"I mean besides the obvious leggy model reason," Felicity finished as he walked back to her desk. Oliver just said the first thing that came to mind.

"It just kinda happened," Oliver replied, "It didn't mean anything."

Felicity tilted her head at him in that way that let him knew she wasn't buying it. That was one of the things that he loved about Felicity. From day one, she wasn't afraid to call him out on bullshit and most of the time, she just did it with a look that told him to get real with her. Felicity demanded, in her own way, that he be a better man, an honest man when he was with her. She didn't fall for his playboy charm or fake smiles, but she did have a weakness. She had feelings for him and as much as he hated it, he could manipulate that too.

"Hey," Oliver said suddenly in a softer tone that he knew would get her attention.

"Because of the life I lead…" he started, taking time with his words, "I just think that it's better to not…be with someone I could really care about."

Oliver saw her eyes go through several layers of emotion before she gathered the things that need to deliver to Isabel's office. He knew his answer hurt her because he didn't answer the question "Why Isabel?"; instead he purposely answered the question "Why not Felicity?" In his own way, he loved Felicity. She was always in his corner. Of all the women in his life, she knew him best and was still around. He could trust her implicitly and that's what made her so dangerous. She was the woman that he needed to protect, to keep close and the woman that could be his undoing. In the end, this whole Isabel thing was about that old saying "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

Suddenly Felicity turned her heel. Oliver had turned to face her.

"Well, I think…I think you deserve better than her," Felicity said and left, leaving Oliver to his own thoughts. Oliver watched her walk away and felt a sudden loss. She was coming back, but somehow he knew their relationship would never be the same again.


End file.
